


Neverending

by ThePursuer



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: F/F, Rebellion Story Spoilers, hints of Miki Sayaka/Kyouko Sakura, mentions of Kamijou Kyousuke/Shizuki Hitomi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 17:46:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5879956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePursuer/pseuds/ThePursuer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They have lunch together on the rooftop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Neverending

**Author's Note:**

> **Fandom:** Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magica  
>  **Title:** Neverending  
>  **Author:** The Pursuer  
>  **Rating:** G/L  
>  **Genre:** Angst  
>  **Pairing:** Homura Akemi X Madoka Kaname (HomuMado); mentions of Kyousuke Kamijou X Hitomi Shizuki and hints of Sayaka Miki X Kyouko Sakura (KyouSaya).  
>  **Spoilers:** For the Rebellion movie.  
>  **Summary:** They have lunch together on the rooftop.  
>  **Disclaimer:** I don’t own Madoka Magica. Please don’t sue me.
> 
> So this is my first work with yuri -- bordeline yuri, if you want to be specific -- and I hope I have given it the same I have given to my other works. :) I've been a fan of Madoka Magica for a long time, but I only managed to watch the Rebellion movie last week -- and suffice to say it left slack-jawed. I just felt I had to write something about it!
> 
> Please warn me if there are any mistakes, so I can fix them!

They have lunch together on the rooftop.

She doesn’t seem to have any other friends, really. Hitomi-chan said that she’s been studying at Mitakihara Middle School for a long time, but she never really gets close to anyone. She is just sort of mysterious that way.

(It’s usually at that part that Sayaka-chan interrupts them to say Homura Akemi is the devil. Then Kyouko-chan hits her in the head.)

She usually brings tamagoyaki and onigiri, everything plainly arranged like she’s done it herself and is not really interested in cooking. She is always willing to share, though, and once she realizes Madoka really likes the octopus-shaped sausages, she starts making sure to include them always.

They do not really speak, not since that strange conversation in the hallway, but sometimes she feels like no words are needed between them. Sometimes she feels like they’ve done this thousands of times before, like they can understand each other because they know everything about each other – and it’s a thought that scares her a little, but she looks at Homura-chan’s quiet smile and calms down. Sometimes she thinks nothing can be wrong with the world if Homura-chan is smiling like that. 

It never lasts too long, though; Madoka always _feels_ around Homura-chan – feels like she’s about to burst, feels like there are endless questions on her head piling up one after another and some of them no one can answer. 

So they speak.

“I don’t want to be your enemy.”

Homura-chan carefully avoids her eyes, stares at the tamagoyaki. Madoka’s throat is a little bit dry.

“I don’t want to be your enemy. I—” _(I look at you, and everything starts burning inside)_ “You look like a really nice person and—” _(and from the moment I saw you, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you)_ “—and I don’t really want to fight or anything—” _(and I feel like we’ve known each other since the beginning of time, I feel like this is part of something bigger than ourselves)_ “—because I’m not really strong—” _(and when it comes to you, I just feel so weak, like you’re some sort of magnet and I’m being drawn in)_ “—and I don’t really know what you have against me—”

“—I have _nothing_ against you.”

Homura-chan’s tone is unhappy, like she’s wounded Madoka could even _think_ the girl who said they’d fight each other in the future could have something against her. She’s still staring at the tamagoyaki, hiding behind the curtain of her black hair. 

Madoka’s voice comes out a little hoarse. “I like you.” _(I think I love you.)_ “I don’t want to be your enemy.”

The other girl is fiddling with her hair, tossing it to one side. She sneaks a look at Madoka, and her lips are trembling.

“I like you too,” she says, voice unsteady like the words aren’t enough. “And I don’t want to be your enemy either. But you shouldn’t – you shouldn’t worry about that.” She blinks, smiles through the tears that have started to slide down her cheeks; it breaks Madoka’s heart. “I don’t think you should worry about things that can’t be helped.”

There are tears in Madoka’s face too. “I really can’t help but hope.”

And suddenly – like the snapping sound of a trigger, but also slow and grandiose like the movements of galaxies – suddenly her head is filled with images of dying stars and universes that have never been born – and she _almost, almost remembers_ – and _a voice that comes out of her mouth_ –

“If someone tells me it’s wrong to hope – _I’ll tell them that they’re wrong every time.”_

She remembers reaching out with her arms, from one end of the universe to the other – there’s a flash of black hair moving as Homura-chan _surges_ forward – and a violation, of her hands, as they grasp Madoka’s wrists with the strength of a fourteen-year-old girl (with the strength of a _god_ ) – there are _colors_ in Homura-chan’s eyes – 

(and all she can think of is the tight line of Sayaka-chan’s lips as she looked at the black-haired girl, and how sometimes it didn’t seem like a joke)

—and she doesn’t remember what she was talking about.

She blinks, her hands so tight in Homura-chan’s grasp there will be marks later. She can only feel the warmth. 

The other girl’s face is soaked with sweat.

The ring of the school bell pierces through her as Homura-chan slowly releases her hands, and, hiding her face in that curtain of black hair, walks away with a smile that seems a little disturbed. 

For the following days, Madoka has lunch with Hitomi-chan and Kamijou-kun in the cafeteria.

But eventually—

Eventually, the marks disappear, and the movement of that black hair catches her eye – and images of Homura-chan fill her mind when she can’t pay attention in the class, the black of her eyelids as she is trying to sleep. Like a magnet – or like stars twirling around each other in an endless cycle – she starts getting closer and closer, and one day goes up the stairs with bento in hand and a trembling smile on her face to find Homura-chan there, waiting.

They have lunch together on the rooftop.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Thanks to:** The Magica Quartet, for all the excelent work they've done and keep on doing with this series!
> 
> Hope you all like it!


End file.
